Villagers – The Art of Pretending to Swim

There's something very comforting about the opening of Again, the first song on Villagers' fourth studio album, as a rapid acoustic guitar figure builds to a crescendo with Conor O'Brien singing directly into your ear. As the strings swell and a delicate one-fingered piano flourish sends shivers down your spine, lovers of earlier albums such as Becoming a Jackal and Darling Arithmetic will find themselves on familiar ground. But the tune turns taut around two-and-a-half-minutes in as electronic pulses, bird noise and an auto-tuned refrain begin to dominate. There, in among the stunning lyrics and widescreen melodies, stands what fills the glass at the heart of Villagers.

Lovers of those earlier acoustic-led affairs will find much to admire on The Art of Pretending to Swim: A Trick of the Light is perfect perpetual motion pop, Sweet Saviour a lovely lilting lament that O'Brien does better than anyone and Fool, a groove-led delight filled with beautiful noise and couplets of confusion. The latter, especially, hints at a soul music obsession that has never truly breached the surface of Villagers' records, but it's there this time in the falsetto harmonies, high-pitched strings and spaces found in between austere (self) production choices.

The Art of Pretending to Swim is an album that will reveal itself after a few listens. Initially, it sounds like a case of business as usual for Villagers, but spend time with the likes of Love Came With All It Brings (think a more relaxed Elvis Costello), the tense Real Go-Getter and the gorgeous six-minute McCartney-esque closer Ada ('You are the hole in which I hide'), and you'll hear the sound of an artist still busy being born.

Listen to: A Trick of the Light, Fool, Ada